Timmy
by Precambrian Studios
Summary: Ever wondered why O'Neill is the way he is? Well, here you go.


The small child with the visible bruises on his face slowly shuffled down the hallway of the orphanage, averting his gaze from everyone who passed him, children or adult, and in turn they either gave him only fleeting glances or ignored him completely. He was hunched forward as if he expected to be struck at any given moment. His breathing was rapid and his heart was beating quickly for no apparent reason at all.

The orphanage's psychologist peered at the boy as he passed his window. He frowned at this little boy's introverted demeanor and resolved to find out more about this child. He sat down at his desk and called the record-keeper, who was several floors below.

"Joanne? It's Wyatt."

"What can I do for you, Bill?"

"You familiar with a little boy with brown hair, looks about kindergarten age?"

"Oh." Her voice had taken on a solemn tone. "Tim O'Neil?"

"I guess. Kids looks miserable. Did something happen with him?"

"It was horrible. Apparently, Baltimore PD got a call from a passer-by, saying he heard high-pitched screams coming from a small house downtown. They went in and found both his parents beating him to bloody pulp. He spent a few weeks in a hospital before his parents were permanently denied custody. What really puts my blood to a boil is that they think his parents had been doing this to him for about two years now. Neighbors never thought to call the cops. They thought they were showing him a bunch of horror movies."

"You can't be serious."

"Well, it's somewhat believable. It's not like they did this to him on a daily basis."

"Well, I'm going to start sessions with him, write it down."

"Starting when?"

"In the next five minutes."

XXXX

Wyatt watched the small boy in the chair in front of him. He had not said a word to him when Wyatt first talked to him, and now he was just staring at the floor, his head bowed like that of a rag-doll.

It's vital that I reach this child. With the way he's been treated in these critical years of development, he could end up being violent himself in his later years. There's a decent chance he may never be emotionally stable again anyways. But I have to give it a go.

"Timmy?"

No response.

"Timmy, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to tell anyone what you have to say about your parents."

At the word _parents_, Timmy flinched. _Note to self: do not use that word again._

"But, is there anything you want to say? Any feelings you want to vet?"

Timmy sniffed. "They hate me. They said I'm worthless and that I should never have been born. I hate them too."

_Hate. Quite a hostile word. Not a good sign._ "Timmy, can I ask you something? Do you respect your parents?"

He frowned. "What does 'respect' mean?"

"Does what they think about you matter, and you of them?"

"I don't know."

"Timmy, do you ever want to see your parents again?"

"No!"

"And you never will. They're going to be in jail for a long time. They'll never be able to hurt you ever again. You have nothing to be afraid of if you say you respect them or not. Do you?"

"No!"

"Well, if you don't respect them, that means you don't think much of them, do you?"

"No."

"Then does what they say about you matter?"

"...no!" Timmy smiled, which made Wyatt smile. "No! It doesn't matter!"

XXXX

The years went buy. Wyatt continued to see Timmy, as he often found himself dealing with various emotional turmoils, and Wyatt was always there for him. He told him about what it mean to have high-self esteem. While he was interested, Timmy often showed a greater interest in the various books in Wyatt's bookcase. He showed Timmy Voltaire, Shakespeare, Twain, and Timmy imbibed in each and every phrase.

A few days before his eighteenth birthday (nobody had ever wanted to adopt an abused boy with emotional troubles. What would the neighbors think?), Timmy went to Wyatt and told him not only did he want to teach great literature, but he always wanted to help other children assert themselves, just like Wyatt had for him. While Wyatt didn't think he was prepared for such a job, he nevertheless gave Timmy his blessing.

Years later, after graduating from Maryland State, Timmy sent a letter to Wyatt, telling about how grateful he was for his help and without him, he wouldn't have gotten to become a teacher.

He never got a reply, and O'Neill thought it was because Wyatt was so busy, and he understood that. What he didn't know was that his mentor died of a heart attack while he was still at MS.

-Disclaimer: My knowledge of child psychology is limited and anything here should not be considered completely factual.


End file.
